Unforgivable
by Nemati
Summary: There are good reasons why three curses were made unforgivable. No magic can block them, they are torture of the worst kind and almost always leave insanity or death in their wake. Rated for gore, horror and serious angst. 3 Parts of 'At Death's Door'


_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Harry Potter. 

_A/N: _Three part story, each unforgivable gets a chapter. These are also part of my collection of 'At Death's Door' and this is just a ploy to get more reviews. **;) **That and I really wanted to make this a separate fic, because these three just go together.

Rated: R

Warning: Extreme gore

  

Unforgivable. 

Part 1: Imperio!

"Imperio!" Voldemort yelled in anger and the curse hit Harry dead on, he had no way of getting out of the way.

_'Pick up the knife.'_ A pleasant daze came over him, like he was floating on the air as light as a feather. He felt no more pain from the torture he had undergone and no more worries for his friends and teachers. He felt his body starting to move towards the large silver dagger. The hypnotizing voice was so very hard to resist and he already was so tired.

_'Pick up the knife and cut her throat.'_

_'No.'_ Came the weak resistance from his own mind. _'Hermione... I won't hurt her.'_

_'Just pick it up.... put your hand on the handle.... hold it against her neck.... and press.'_

_'No.... no.... I won't do it. I swore I would protect her.'_ But as his mind fought, his hand was already reaching.

_'Go on... pick it up...'_

"I WON'T!" As he bellowed out these words, the real world came back to him with all its aches and hurts. He pulled back his hand and scrambled as far away from the gleaming weapon as he possibly could, without going near the deatheaters that surrounded him.

When the curse was lifted and he could think clearly again, he immediately realised his mistake. He should've picked up the dagger, that way he would've at least had some kind of weapon.

Not that it would've been much help, since he was surrounded by deatheaters, who were all carrying wands. His wand had been taken from him the moment he was captured.

The attack had been unexpected, but not unanticipated. Voldemort and his most powerful followers had broken down the wards around and inside the castle, before storming in. At that time the younger students had already been evacuated to the common rooms and the remaining wizards and witches had readied themselves for the coming battle inside the great hall.

Even with the Order of the Phoenix, the teachers and the older students fighting, they hadn't stood a chance against the forces that Voldemort had brought with him to the siege of Hogwarts and now it was all over.

Dumbledore had been killed by Voldemort in the first few minutes of chaos and after that it had taken the deatheaters very little time to kill off the rest of the defending forces.

Half lying on the floor in the great hall, waiting for the Dark Lord's next move, Harry's eyes fell on the body of professor McGonagall. She and several others who he really didn't want to recognise were piled up against the wall behind the Gryffindor table.

He quickly averted his gaze to an unconscious Hermione, who was dumped in front of the teachers' platform on which Voldemort was standing. The only reason she was still alive was that she was his friend. They spared her to torture him. How sickly ironic.

All the other muggleborns were already dead, even the ones who had been inside the common rooms. They had been separated with a simple paternity charm and executed in front of his eyes, one by one. Starting with the terrified first years, just scared little children, and ending with the seventh years who had survived the battle. 

The half- and purebloods had all been spared though, even those from known light families, probably for blackmail and extortion. But Harry knew that everyone who had fought were all dead. Luna, Cho, Neville, Ginny, Ron.... and so many, many more.

The only survivors of the battle were himself and Hermione.... but for how long? 

"Crucio!"

The feeling of white hot knifes slicing through his skin, of fire eating it's way through his guts, a sword cleaving through his skull, was what pulled him out of his musings of death and into a world where only pain existed.

He screamed in agony.

When it finally ended it took him a long while before he could get himself together enough to stand up. His entire body was shaking from the pain curse and it took all his effort to remain standing, but he did.

There had been no talking this time, unlike how it had been at the cemetery in his fourth year, no insults, no giving him his wand to duel, there had only been curses, hexes and pain.

Even now Voldemort said nothing, now that he was a quivering wreck without any hope of retaliating against the powerful dark lord.

"Imperio." 

Again? 

Harry closed his eyes and waited for the dreamlike state and hypnotizing voice to tell him to do unspeakable things, but it never came.

He opened his eyes and saw that Voldemort's wand was pointed, not at him, but at Hermione, who had just woken up and was looking at him in confusion.

He saw her eyes glaze over and the confusion on her face change into a blank mask.

Cold fear gripped his heart and it suddenly became even harder to breath. He knew that very second what was going to happen and he knew he would never seriously hurt her, even if it meant his own life.

Hermione picked up the dagger and started advancing on him rather quickly, blade raised at head height.

Ignoring the pain shooting through his shaking limbs, Harry raised his own hands and stood in a defensive position. But as he focused on the girl in the bloody robes coming towards him, he forgot about the deatheaters behind him. He felt a hard kick against his knees and he buckled over, landing on his hands with a loud crack and he cried out in pain as his wrist broke against the hard stone floor.

The deatheater that had send him to the floor stood over him and kicked his side fiercely, forcing him to roll over onto his back. The masked man walked back into the circle, leaving him lying on the ground.

Harry turned his head and looked straight into Hermione's emotionless face. She was leaning over him, the dagger getting closer and closer to his neck, but he could see her hand wavering. She was fighting the curse, she was resisting. If only she could break it completely.

"Hermione! Wake up. Please it's Harry, please wake up." 

She stopped moving the knife towards him for a second, but then he had to roll out of the way as she slashed at him.

"HERMIONE!" He yelled, his voice braking in pain and fear. 

He was still lying on the ground and he tried to get up, while trying to avoid using his right hand, but he fell back down the second he stopped using his left hand for support. As he landed on his back all the air was pushed out of lungs and he had already been out of breath due to all the exertion and torture. 

Opening his eyes, he hadn't even noticed he closed them, he saw Hermione once again leaning over him, but now he didn't have time to roll away and excruciating pain shot through him as the dagger was driven through his stomach.

He screamed.

Very slowly the blade was pulled down, cutting him open inch by excruciating inch.

Harry was gulping air into his longs, the pain was too much and as he regained some oxygen he screamed again. If magic hadn't prevented it, he would've passed out the second the dagger had been stabbed into him.

Gulp.... scream. Gulp.... scream.

Every breath out was a screech until his voice was gone and all that came out now was a rasping sound and blood.

The dagger went through his skin, muscles, intestines, until she reached his pubis bone and could go no further. Hermione pulled it out, ignoring the river of blood that was soaking her hands and shoes, and immediately stuck it into his side, cutting perpendicular to the last wound, creating a cross on his belly.

Once again she pulled the dagger out and she put it into her left hand.

Her now empty right hand gently caressed the torn and bloody skin, smearing the red liquid all over both of them. Then, suddenly, she pulled back a flap of skin and stuck her hand into the hole.

Harry gasped loudly, nearly choking on his blood. Even through all the pain he could actually feel her hand moving inside of him.

With extremely slow movements she pulled her hand back and as it came out, the pain increased to unimaginable levels and Harry eyes shot open.

Only to see the horrific sight of one of his best friends holding his guts in her hands, blood streaming along the stretched out bowels, back into the cavity. 

Still moving as slow as she possibly could she started pulling and piece by piece his intestines were removed from him. 

He watched the almost unreal sight like one would watch TV, his mind detached with pain, shock and blood loss.

Until, with one last pull, his heart stopped and Harry Potter was no more.

When the curse was lifted Hermione looked at the cut up body of her best friend in petrified shock. She fell onto her knees, still clutching the dagger and vomited on the floor before her as the surrounding deatheaters laughed at her.

Then, without any hesitation, she grabbed the dagger with both blood drenched hands and plunged it into her own stomach.

End. 

Ah, done. Lets see... Do I have everything? Torture... check. Death for angst... check. Gore... check. Angsty gory torture... check. More gore... check. More death... check. Alright it's finished and I'm kinda proud of this one, I think it turned out pretty well, for me that is, certainly not for Harry or Hermione.... ^_^****

Aaahhh, someone save me... I'm going into review withdrawal.... Please review at 'At Death's Door', you can find it on my bio, but if that's too much trouble you can do it here. However, your thank you notes will be on chapter 16 of that story collection.


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